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The Cheesecake Mystery.

June 9, 2008

It was a time of celebration, of merriment, of festivity.
The family has gathered
For a high school graduation.

It was a time of killing time.
The location: The Cheesecake Factory, adjacent to the mall.
The time: Saturday night.
So many people, we thought.
65-85 minutes, they said.

Splitting up.
Mother napping in the car,
Brother (and the Boy of Honor) checking out video games,
The Grandmothers chatting on a bench,
The Sister trying on clothes she can’t really afford at The Limited.

Pants won’t fit,
Dress is hopeless,
But alas, two shirts!
Perfect for summer (humidity and all).

Time is almost up!
Quickly zip up jean skirt, adjust top,
Slip on the heels.
Beep! Beep! says the cash register.
With a flick of the wrist,
The receipt is signed
And off we go!

Dinner is filled with laughter and good food.
Salmon and pasta and chicken,
Slices of delicious cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory and
The biggest Chinese chicken salad you have ever seen.

Buzzzzz buzzzzz buzzzzz, goes the insulin pump
As it dumps in the contents of my reservoir.
Is there a “Select All” feature?

Hours later.

Cards have been read,
Checks have been collected,
Presents have been unwrapped.
Time for a blood sugar check.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1…
520 mg/dl
Gasp!
Shock!
Awe!

“Don’t you sometimes do two tests?” the Brother asks.
Brilliant!
Furiously scrub hands in the sink,
Seeking to remove any sneaky cheesecake molecules.
Pat hands dry and
Take Two:

524 mg/dl.
Blast!
The feeling of utter failure and confusion begin to set in.
Override insulin pump, which suggests bolusing .6 units.
Something tells me: not gonna work.

Gulp down half a can of Diet Ginger Ale.
Trudge upstairs to the bedroom.
Change into pajamas.
Move insulin pump from pocket of jean skirt to
Pocket of hoodie jacket.

Notice trail of tubing down the side of my leg.
I am unplugged.
The dressing room…
Realizations begin to unfold and
The feeling of utter confusion is replaced with
The feeling of utter stupidity.

So, this is to say,
Ladies and gentlemen,
That dressing rooms are a
Very dangerous place.

And, in case you were wondering,
Or just joining us,
I am indeed
And in fact
A PWD.
(person with diabetes, yo)

11 Comments
  1. June 9, 2008 12:38 PM

    Ugh-I hate “those moments”. Beware of the dressing room, between the ripping out of sets/forgetting to plug stuff back in it’s not a pumper-friendly envirement.
    Hope your bg is back to earth now.

  2. June 9, 2008 2:20 PM

    Gah! How annoying! Hope you’re back to normal now.

  3. Autumn permalink
    June 9, 2008 2:29 PM

    It’s nice to know that I’m not the only person in the world that’s done that.
    I’ve also managed to zip up the pump tubing. That one took a while to figure out since the leak wasn’t in the normal near the skin location.

  4. June 9, 2008 3:10 PM

    Ug, I’m sorry that happened. But – on the bright side – I really enjoyed your presentation of this frustrating story!

  5. June 9, 2008 3:19 PM

    Oh yes…I have done this so many times that it is embarassing for me to admit it. You’d think I’d catch on to the dressing room thing…

    Glad I am not alone!

  6. June 9, 2008 3:52 PM

    I know it’s awful but – I’m sitting here thinking how lovely it was that at least you were having a wonderful time with your brother and your family.

  7. June 9, 2008 6:48 PM

    That sucks. I’ve been there! No fun whatsoever.

  8. June 9, 2008 7:16 PM

    Don’t feel too bad, I do stuff like that all the time.

    I’m sorry that it put a crimp in your evening though. With all blood sugars aside, it certainly sounded like a fantastic evening. I’m glad you got to spend & enjoy time with your family.

  9. September 26, 2008 11:09 AM

    I’ve had to insert a new site in a changing room because of this exact problem! At least I caught it right away, I suppose.

Trackbacks

  1. Oops, I Forgot/Underestimated/Ignored It Again! « Lemonade Life
  2. Repeat: The Cheesecake Mystery. « Lemonade Life

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